Wands and Broomsticks
by Sa-kun
Summary: Harry cautiously opened his bag, hands trembling and sweaty, heart in his throat and hardly daring to breath. The parcel, when he finally opened it, revealed a magazine with bold letters reading, 'Wands and Broomsticks'. /AU SLASH, CWHP, Homosexuality/


Well, all I can really say is that I had a bloody fun time writing it. It amused me.

**Disclaimer**: I own the plot, I suppose. And anything unrelated to JKR's work.

**Warnings**: Well, I don't know. There's **SLASH** (boy-on-boy), obviously. I guess there are subtle spoilers for all the books, but I'm horrible when it comes to remembering what goes where. No one's dead but Sirius Black and Voldemort, at any rate (and any other bad guys you want dead, I don't care). There's also a great deal of **homosexuality **involved. It's sort of a coming out fic, I guess. Oh, right, and Charlie Weasley _tames dragons._

_Wands and Broomsticks._

* * *

When Harry signed the form, using a fake name and a school owl, his face had been bright red and his hands were shaking. Chest and stomach heavy with guilt and dread and trepidation, Harry swallowed hard then hurriedly sent he owl off before he could change his mind.

He had to know.

For two weeks, he managed to successfully forget about it, only remembering it with a guilty pang of pleasure and hope and anguish as he lay at night trying to sleep and will away an erection he wasn't sure he wanted given the circumstances.

It was a Friday. It was the fourteenth of February. It was two weeks since he had sent off the borrowed owl. A parcel landed on Harry's plate. Fingers shaking slightly, he picked it up, and paled as he read the name, _Hector Evans_, written in a garish green colour. It was stuffed away and hidden in his bag before anyone could notice that someone had sent him anything, especially under a false name. Lying and cheating just wasn't done in Gryffindor, and if he tried to explain, then they would want to know why, and Harry couldn't tell anyone that. Not now. He wasn't sure if he ever would.

Harry's hands wouldn't stop shaking, and they finally earned him a detention during potions as his clumsiness caused his potion to explode and turn everything it touched a soft pink. He was a bit surprised that it had taken the Professor the entire class to do so, but he appreciated that the man was making an effort, and Harry valiantly tried to do the same.

Or he would once he managed to calm down.

"Sir?"

Professor Snape stared coolly at him, then snorted. "Come with me, Potter. I have no wish to spend my Friday night in a dank classroom." Swallowing heavily, Harry nodded and trudged after the man, fighting to keep up with the long strides.

That the doors leading to the Head of House's private quarters in Slytherin were guarded by two snakes, coiled around the framework and doorhandles, efficiently blocking entry, was not that much of a surprise. That they hissed, was, on the other hand, and Harry started as they promptly opened when he hissed, '_hello_'.

"Um," he said eloquently. "You need better guards."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps. However, were anyone to break in..." he trailed off and Harry paled. Oh, if anyone ever did that, then Harry would be so totally screwed.

Seated in a comfortable couch, legs tucked under him, Harry clutched a cup of tea to his chest and absent-mindedly watched his Professor potter about, picking up dirty clothes and misplaced books, looking relaxed and at ease and it reminded him of their summer spent at Grimauld Place, where it had just been the two of them, for several, long weeks. It reminded him of their calm, quiet Christmas. Those lazy, relaxing two weeks spent alone together, once again in his deceased Godfather's House.

It was soothing.

"Would you care to tell me what today's uncharacteristic behaviour was all about, Harry?"

Harry choked on his tea, paling again; his face whiter than the porcelain cup in his hand and hands trembling. "Uh...um, no, sir. It's...no, not really." His heart was pounding loudly.

Severus gave him an appraising stare. "Very well," he murmured and, a bundle of dirty laundry in his arms, left the room.

Fifteen minutes later, Harry was cautiously opening his bag, hands trembling and sweaty, heart in his throat and hardly daring to breath. The parcel, when he finally opened it, revealed a Muggle-esque magazine with a glossy front-page and bold maroon letters reading, '_Wands and Broomsticks_'. It was such a nondescript name, so innocent and common, and not really saying anything. So obvious to Harry that it was anything but. The wizard laughing and and running a hand through his hair was handsome and manly, his shirt lazily buttoned. '_Charismatic Hedger Ledger, newly awarded Best Chaser of the Year, talks about his dreams, his years at Beauxbatons and how living with the Minister of France's secretary, Jacques Sheppard, really is_.'

Harry's mouth was dry. For once feeling somewhat numb, he opened the magazine. It still looked Muggle, pages still glossy. The pictures moved, and Harry flushed hotly as the man smirking dangerously on the left side reached out a hand and pulled in someone else. Another man. And kissed him. Thoroughly, and Harry's breath left him in a shaky gasp. It was quite possibly the sexiest thing he had ever seen. Then he blanched, shook his head and hurriedly turned a page. He smiled, somewhat shakily. Good, good. An article. Just smiling faces, and no kisses. He could do this.

On page seven he flushed horribly, then paled just as fast. "Shit..." Curled up further, and magazine held up in front of him, shielding his face, he read, raptly and intently, an article about Oliver Wood. An Oliver Wood Harry had never known, because this one was gay, and holding another man around the shoulders, being kissed by said man on the cheek. Harry's Oliver had been a Captain and a friend. Harry had never thought Oliver to have a sexuality; so much of his time was spent on his obsession with Quidditch. That the other man also was a Quidditch player was worrisome, and Harry began wondering if too much time spent riding on a broom made you gay, or if too much time spent on a Quidditch team merely exposed you to several hours upon hours of being naked in a communal shower with other men. He wondered if the name, '_Wands and Broomsticks_', wasn't as unfounded as he had first believed.

Maybe he ought to owl Oliver...

Making a strangled sort of noise, Harry shook his head and turned the page.

_'New at this and wondering whether or not you are going insane?_' the title read, and Harry managed a shy smile, his heart once again pounding loudly, blood rushing in his ears, ears that felt hot and were probably bright red. '_Don't worry_,' it continued, '_you are not alone, and for this Valentine Special, we have several additional stories and experiences to offer._'

The first one was Oliver. Oliver who had always known, and had had trysts and lovers throughout his years as a student. Oliver who had always been very comfortable in his sexuality.

The second one was Hedger Ledger. Hedger, who had been confused and angry, who had got into trouble, hadn't understood anything and been so, so confused. He had been handed a book, he wrote, by the MediWitch, and after that, things had gradually cleared.

The third one was from a Dragon Keeper named Charlie, and Harry's stomach lurched. Charlie had been confused, too. Confused and worried, because he had somewhere felt a pressure that his mother expected him to have children and marry a lovely woman. He had felt uncomfortable when his stomach would lurch and his insides turned cold as she inevitably brought it up in letters and around the dinner table, that his lack of girlfriends was rather worrying, and that he'd see, he'd feel so much better once he found a nice girl. In the end, it had been his older brother, Billy, who had helped him. Carefully explaining that there was more to life than women, and that he had a friend, Chris, who was gay and if Charlie perhaps wanted to talk to him?

'_I never regretted, even once, going to see him. He made me see that I didn't have to live up to my mother's wishes, and that she wouldn't be disappointed in me; that she just wanted me to be happy, and that she was, as mothers tend to be, worried and only looking out for me_.' The text continued, sounding wry to Harry, '_still, I was only about sixteen, seventeen. Mum always was a bit drastic._'

Harry selfishly wanted to know if he had ever told Mrs Weasley, and how she'd reacted.

Maybe, possibly...being gay didn't seem as horrible any more. But he was still terrified, still felt horribly guilty and selfish; insecure and like he didn't belong anywhere any more.

The coffee-table creaked slightly, softly, and Harry froze, _shitshitshitshitshit!_ The sound of a throat clearing, and a slim, long fingered hand gently lowered the magazine. Eyes wide, face pale, Harry shook his head, hands trembling and breathing coming in shallow gasps. Severus looked steadily at him, his black eyes guarded and face strangely void of emotions. It did not make Harry feel any better.

"Please, Harry," he finally murmured, "please tell me you did not sign a subscription for a homosexual magazine with your name."

"Hector Evans," he whispered hoarsely.

Severus nodded, "thank you." He hesitated slightly, then asked, "do you have questions?"

They tumbled from Harry's lips before he was even aware that he had them, that he wanted to ask them and that, no, Severus didn't seem disgusted. He was just so desperate and scared and confused. Felt so alone and exposed and didn't understand anything any more.

By the end of the school year, Severus had a small pile of '_Wands and Broomsticks_' magazines stacked on his coffee-table.

* * *

"Oliver!" Oliver turned around, frowning at first but then smiling as he saw Harry. Harry grinned and threw his arms around Oliver's neck. "It's good to see you, mate."

Bewildered, Oliver hugged Harry back. "You drunk?"

Harry pulled back and smiled. "No. Happy. _I _got an offer from a top ranking Quidditch team in Romania, _and _I just graduated."

Oliver grinned and patted Harry on the shoulder. "I see your point."

"So..." Harry looked around, his face betraying nothing but a too convincing innocence. "Did you come alone?"

"Why?" Oliver narrowed his eyes.

Sheepishly, Harry said, "Keenan is an awesome Seeker. I was kinda hoping you'd've brought him along, you know?"

Oliver took a step closer. "And how, exactly, would you know about Keenan?"

Harry flushed. "Um. Read it? In a magazine...an article...?" He took a cautious step backwards.

"Now, now," a voice from behind interrupted, and an arm was amicably thrown around Harry's shoulders, "don't make Harry so flustered, Oliver."

Harry stiffened as he saw the freckles on the arm, and belatedly recognised the voice. "Oh, come on, Charlie," Oliver scoffed, "if he decides to pull one on me, then he'd better be prepared to take the consequences. Right, Harry?"

"Um," Harry said, the colour of his face easily outmatching Charlie's hair, "I, uh...I just...I wanted to- I mean, I'm-"

"Oh," Oliver suddenly said, slightly shocked, and slightly gentle, a soft smile curving his lips. "You're not sure."

"I, I thought about owling?"

"Sure about what?"

Oliver looked at Harry, and Harry bit his lip, then shrugged and mumbled, "stuff."

"'Stuff'."

"Like me and you."

"Ah."

"You and _I_," Harry muttered, "it's '_you and I'_." Harry rolled his eyes as Charlie and Oliver exchanged a _look_. Then he frowned. "Um. Why is...Ron looking angry?"

Charlie tugged him closer, squeezing his arm and sighed, though grinning, "I'm gay, y'know?"

Harry blushed horrendously again, but nodded. "Um. Yes. I did know that."

"You're his best mate," Charlie finished before changing the subject. "How did you know? Mum doesn't exactly advertise it, and I don't imagine Ron would either."

Weakly, Harry once again said, "there was this magazine..."

Charlie frowned, "mag-_oh_! Harry-"

"You can't tell anyone!"

"Nutter," Charlie muttered, "gays stay together. No one'll say anything until you do."

"Yeah," Oliver nodded, and ruffled Harry's hair, "it's one of many unwritten rules."

"Oh," Harry said softly.

"Harry."

Harry blinked, and turned his head back. "Sir?"

Severus raised an eyebrow slightly. "You do remember the occasion when I asked if you used your name?" Biting his lip, Harry nodded. "This is the same."

Harry looked slightly downcast, then sighed and slipped out of Charlie's arm. A warmer emotion flashed briefly in Severus eyes, then he held out a small box. "Sir?"

"It is customary for students to receive a guardian or a pet upon their graduation from Hogwarts." Harry's heart gave a pang briefly, then he curiously reached out for the small box. He had thought the Weasleys would- "There are also certain customs to be followed."

Frowning, Harry lifted the lid, eyes widening, he looked up at Severus in shock. "A snake?"

"Your abilities leave little choice."

"Oh..." The little snake in the box lazily raised its head, sticking it out curiously over the top. "Thank you, sir."

"Huh," Charlie said, leaning over Harry's shoulder, "I guess that's why mum didn't do it..."

"Quite," Severus retorted dryly. "Harry?"

Harry nodded, touching his finger to the snake's rounded nose. It hissed, and Harry smiled.

_'Yes, little one, you belong to me, now. Who are you?'_

The snake hissed again, much louder and pushed most of its body out of the box, suspended in air. '_Mehen, hatchling. It is cold,_' it declared, then slithered out of the box and under the sleeve of Harry's robe and he yelped. The snake hissed, and Harry got the feeling it was laughing at him. It eventually stopped its trek, quite satisfied to coil itself around Harry's upper arm, head resting lazily on Harry's shoulder.

"It's called Mehen."

"A male, then." Severus paused. "Do exercise caution, Harry." He left, then, heading towards the Headmaster and Remus.

"Caution?"

"I'm Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, head figure of the Ministry, property of the people," Harry said quietly, not really looking at either Oliver or Charlie. "Nothing I do is my personal business, and they consider it an offence were I to actually have a life. Have secrets. Keep things from them...like Romania..."

"Romania?"

"Quidditch."

* * *

Harry was seated at a table, alone, twirling a bottle around. It wasn't exactly Butterbeer, and Harry had probably drunk a bit too much of it, but he couldn't find it within himself to care, because he felt great. Really, truly great. Wonderful, even. Because his hands weren't shaking, his palms weren't sweating and all those horrible feelings of confusion and fear and guilt were absent, and instead he was flushed, grinning, his heart beating fast and hard and he just felt deliriously happy.

And he was thoroughly unable to take his eyes off Charlie, fooling around with Oliver, Angelina and Katie.

"Harry." Harry's eyes shifted from them, to the source of the voice. Bill smiled, looking rather amused, and eased the bottle from Harry's lax grip and took a swig from it. "You do know that Angelina's rather besotted with Fred, right?"

Harry frowned, then looked back, and smiled dreamily again. Angelina was currently involved in a mock-war with Charlie. "Mm..."

Bill's smile widened, "and that Katie..."

"Katie...yes," Harry blushed, and nodded, "I tend to forget about that, yeah..."

Bill nodded. "So, Harry..."

"Hm?"

"Who are you fawning over, then?"

Harry grinned widely. "He doesn't know," he confided seriously, "so you can't tell, okay?" Bill's eyes widened, but Harry didn't notice, once again staring across the garden. "Professor Snape'll have my head for this, you know," he murmured. "'Caution', he says. But you won't tell, will you? I mean, you didn't tell on Charlie, and he said you were great to him, and-" Harry blinked as Bill's hand came up to cover Harry's mouth.

"How much, exactly, have you had?"

"Just a little." Harry squinted slightly, then shook his head, "uh-uh."

"What?"

"First time I saw you, I thought you were really handsome, you know? And dangerous and cool...but, I've changed my mind. Charlie's better," Harry declared, then turned away, eyes slightly unfocused as he stared at Charlie, hovering water balloons over Oliver, who was hovering a bucket over Charlie's head. "Taming dragons is so much sexier..."

"I suppose I can see the appeal," Bill said, voice strangled as he tried to keep from laughing. "And I'm offended, Harry. You wound me."

Harry shook his head, attention once more on Bill, eyes wide, "oh, no, Bill! You're really hot, honestly, I just like Charlie better, y'know?" He leaned closer, his breath ghosting across Bill's face, "he _tames dragons_!"

"How could I've failed to notice that?"

Harry shook his head, lips pursed. "It's because you're in a pyramid."

"A pyramid?"

Harry nodded and scooted closer, so that he was sitting pressed up close to Bill and leaned his head on Bill's shoulder. "Everyone knows that. Oh..." he sighed, "look!"

"I see," Bill said dryly and rolled his eyes. "Looking wet, Charlie?"

Charlie grinned, his lips pursed and eyes narrowed. "Do I? Dear me, Billy, I hadn't noticed."

Harry nodded, "uh-huh. It's hot." He paused, and patted Bill on the thigh, "you're too, but Charlie's better."

"So you keep saying." Bill shifted, and gently pushed Harry away. "I've a woman to attend to, now." Harry nodded, and moved away. He reached for the bottle, but Bill held it out of reach. "You've had quite enough, Harry. Later," he nodded, then moved off towards a pretty lady.

"Wow," Harry murmured, "he got Fleur...she's really pretty, y'know. And kind. She was really kind to me at the TriWizard-thing..._Ah!_" Harry cried out, spluttering to get water out of his mouth.

"Oops," Charlie smiled innocently. "Did I do that?"

Harry huffed, his hair plastered to his skull, drenched with water. "What do you think, Weasley?"

Charlie grinned. "That maybe I did?"

"Ha," Harry exclaimed, then snatched Charlie's wand from him, waved it, and instantly, Charlie's hair was no longer red, but a rather fetching turquoise colour. With one thick yellow streak in it. "Kinda attractive."

Charlie's eyes widened, and his hands flew to his head, pulling at his wet hair until he could see it, and when he did, he burst out laughing. "Certainly, Harry!" His eyes lit up, and he sat down next to Harry and pointed at Oliver. "Him. Do him!"

Harry nodded, an elated grin tugging at his lips. "Yes, sir!" Five seconds later, Oliver's formerly dark hair was a sickening shade of yellow. Alicia, with an arm around Katie's shoulders, got a pretty shade of purple, matching Katie's darker blue. Angelina got pink, because Harry knew she detested it.

"Make yours green," Charlie suddenly said, a hand gently carding through the unruly mop, "so it matches your eyes." One instant, Charlie's freckled hand was buried in black, the next, it stood out against the vibrant green. "Brilliant."

"Oh-! The Professor!"

"Harry-!"

But Harry merely grinned, swished the wand, and Headmaster Dumbledore's long beard was a chequered pink and red, clashing horribly with the orange hair. The brown in Remus' hair turned cobalt blue, while the grey became baby pink, and Severus Snape...Harry grinned delightedly. Lime green. With orange highlights. His dark eyes fasted almost instantly on Harry, and Harry waved, smiling. The Headmaster laughed jovially, patting his beard.

Even Charlie was laughing. "How about something Slytherin for my brother?"

Brother became brothers and sister in Harry's ears, and soon, they were all sporting various shades and combinations of green and silver hair. For Bill, he created a spectacularly beautiful emerald green with streaks to match Fleur's now lilac hair. "I think Hermione would looked good with shockingly pink, don't you?"

"Oh yes..."

There was an almighty shriek, and Harry doubled over laughing. The wand was tugged out of his hand, and Charlie spelled them both dry before tucking it into a pocket, then threw an arm over Harry's shoulders and leaned back against the wall behind them.

The table really was placed a bit off to the side, pressed up against the wall of the house.

Smiling, eyes glittering, Harry happily leaned back, too, and pressed up against Charlie.

"How much of this are you going to regret in the morning?"

"A lot," Harry said impishly. "But I'm really happy now, so I don't care."

Charlie grinned, squeezing Harry's arm. "That's good."

"It is, isn't it?"

"Harry."

Harry jumped up from the bench, sidestepped the table with a grace that belied his otherwise fairly inebriated state, and flung his arms around the man. Who tensed. "Severus," he cried happily, "you look so handsome!" He pulled back, smiling widely up at the man. "And _Charlie_, sir, have you seen him?"

"I have, Harry," Severus said stiffly, lips twitching.

Harry squinted. "Are you smiling, sir?"

"I do believe he is, dear boy," the Headmaster laughed and Harry grinned. "I must thank you for this joyful appearance."

"_Oh, no_," Harry shook his head adamantly, "no need, sir. It was my pleasure!"

"I am sure it was," Severus muttered. "Would you care to change it back?"

Harry shook his head. "Nope." He lowered his voice, confiding in Severus, "I don't have my wand, see."

"No wand, Harry? How did you manage, then?"

"Remus!" And Harry threw his arms around the startled man, who laughed and hugged him back. "You look so pretty, too!" He pulled back, suddenly, looking very serious. "But Charlie's still better, all right?"

"Of course I am," Charlie said smugly. "_I _tame dragons."

"Oh," Harry sighed, smiling softly. "Yes, that is so sexy."

And everyone laughed.

* * *

Waking the next morning, head pounding, the sun hurting his eyes and someone half on top of him, Harry groaned and wanted to die. Then he began remembering, and really, truly, desperately wanted to die. "Fuck," he moaned.

"Huh?" Someone croaked. Harry guessed whoever it was splayed across his chest.

"I'm such a bloody pansy when I'm drunk."

The other man began laughing, quietly and darkly. "I won't argue that..." he paused slightly. "Am I still the most handsome, sexiest-"

"Shut up," Harry muttered, face bright red. Then he froze, eyes wide, "oh God, oh God-" Hands on his face calmed him somewhat, and Charlie came into view, his head hovering above Harry's, and a gentle, if somewhat strained, smile on his face.

"It's all right. Being gay isn't horrible or wrong. It's perfect for those of us who find women a bit less than appealing. And I know that, at first, it's bloody hard to adjust and become fully comfortable with who you are, not to mention sex-" Harry tensed, paled and Charlie smiled. "See? One day, you'll wake up and no longer be horrified by finding a man attractive, so bloody attractive that you find it _hot _to go down on him."

"I don't find it hot!" Harry squeaked, and Charlie grinned,

"Not yet, no. But you do get aroused-"

The picture of those men kissing flashed in his mind, and Harry flushed, "I really don't feel like talking about this right now."

"Hm," Charlie yawned. "How'bout breakfast?"

Harry blinked, and his stomach growled, but... "Ugh."

"Hungover?" Charlie grinned. "See I told you you were gonna regret it. And your hair-"

Harry's eyes narrowed, "yours is not looking much better. Though...it's still kinda appealing..." And Harry shook his head, softly and carefully, then placed his palms on Charlie's chest and pushed. Not that it did much; newly awakened _and _hungover left him rather...weak.

With a groan, Charlie rolled off Harry, chose the wrong side and fell down, scrambling after something to hold onto, managed find one of Harry's arms and with a loud groan, they landed with a heavy thud on the, hard, floor.

"Ugh," Charlie wheezed, and Harry rolled off.

"Sorry. Idiot."

"Shut up, Potter."

The door chose that moment to slam open, and Harry craned his head back. He caught a glimpse of something really green and orange, and burst out laughing.

"Glad to amuse you, Harry," Severus drawled dangerously, eyes narrowed, and Harry wisely shut up and shakily attempted to stand. "What spell did you use?"

"Didn't use one. He just waved my wand. Kind of like a toddler would."

By then, Harry was standing, although Harry suspected the arm Severus was letting him hold onto had something to do with it. "But you look good, sir. Brighter and less mean?"

"I have no wish to look 'brighter and less mean'. Do you realise how infuriating-"

"Oh God..." Harry's eyes were wide, and though his sight was less than perfect without glasses, even he couldn't fail to recognise the Headmaster. Not with those brilliant colours... "I am _so _sorry, sir!"

"Oh, no matter, Harry, no matter. Ah, young Charlie, how good to see you well, this morning! You were looking a bit worse for wear, last night." Harry blinked. Then remembered Oliver, and something about vengeance, and most of Charlie's clothes disappearing. The Headmaster's eyes were twinkling. "Well, I will see you both at breakfast. Good morning."

"...where're my glasses?" Severus wordlessly slid them on, and Harry blinked again as everything came into focus. "Thank you, Sev-sir."

"Severus is fine." Severus looked like he had swallowed a lemon, but Harry's heart still warmed, and he smiled softly.

"Thank you, then, Severus."

"Ah, Severus, there you are," Remus entered, rubbing his hair and yawning. "You forgot your wand on the bedside table."

Harry stilled, his eyes widened, and he looked desperately at Severus, who pinched his nose and, almost growled, "_Lupin_."

Remus blinked, caught sight of Harry, blinked again then coloured hotly. "Oh shit."

Harry, though, Harry whined and held his hands over his ears and fled the room. "I'm not listening to this!"

"Harry-"

"No, Charlie," Harry's voice could be heard quite clearly even though he was well out of sight, "you don't want to hear about your parents having sex, do you?" What followed was a rather stunned, uncomfortable silence that Harry broke, sticking his head around the door frame. Weakly, he said, "um. I meant. Parental figures. You know. Um. Yes. Breakfast. Bye." And he was gone again.

* * *

"So," Charlie grinned, "Lupin bagged the Potions Master, huh?"

"Shut up," Harry muttered, ears red. "I spent the last year...year and a half, maybe, with Severus basically being my dad, and _Remus _was best-friends with my dad...it's like saying your mum and dad-"

Charlie turned faintly green. "Don't. Knowing the number of kids in the family is quite enough, thank you."

"Yeah," Harry said, sounding strangled, "it's a horrifying thought."

"For what it's worth, though, Lupin looked rather horrified."

"That was before, you know, when he thought I was a homophobe or something. Like I wasn't the largest poof last night, throwing myself at everyone and declaring how handsome they all were..." Harry shook his head, frowning softly. "In a way, it's like last night never happened...last night, I was so bloody happy and exited, and now I'm a nervous wreck all over again."

"With brilliant green hair."

Harry glared.

Charlie smiled, stepping closer and rested a hand gently on Harry's cheek. "No, really, Harry. Everyday is a step forward. Today you have something you didn't have last night."

"Green hair?" Harry said dryly.

"Yeah. And knowledge."

"...Bill must have thought I was a nutter..."

"Billy is fairly resilient and understanding."

Harry shrugged, "if you say so," and Charlie hugged him briefly. Harry tensed, then relaxed slightly in the warm hold and managed not to look disappointed as Charlie pulled back almost immediately. But he was still fairly close.

The turquoise hair really did clash horribly with his complexion, making the freckles look somewhat orange and since Charlie had so many of them, he gained a peculiar skin tone. Which in turn made his eyes look rather...turquoise as well, when Harry knew they were really...he leaned a bit closer, squinting slightly...mottled... "blue and green, hm?"

"Harry?" Charlie asked quietly, hands resting softly on Harry's shoulders.

"Your eyes. I was trying to...your hair makes it difficult."

Charlie grinned and rolled his eyes. "Sure."

But Harry wasn't really focusing on his eyes any more, because he just realised that Charlie had exceptionally well proportioned lips that looked _very _kissable. Very, very, very kissable, perfect, little lips, and Harry sighed, his cheeks turning a soft pink.

"...Harry?"

Harry hummed, shaking his head. All he knew was that he wanted to kiss Charlie. _Now_. He was so close, too, and all Harry would really have to do was lean a little bit forward, tilt his head slightly to the side, and Charlie's breath would do more than just brush his face. Harry nervously flicked his tongue out, wetting his lips, and his heart hammered away in his chest, pounding, at the way Charlie's eyes darkened, and how the hands on his shoulders gripped tighter, then loosened, and suddenly there was a hand on his face, a thumb gently stroking a spot just under his eye. The other disappeared in his hair, and Harry shivered.

"You know," Charlie murmured thickly, "I wouldn't-"

Harry never really found out what Charlie wouldn't do, because Harry jerked his head forward, and something snapped inside of him, both of them, because after a hesitant, dry touch of lips upon lips, Charlie pushed, and Harry gasped sharply as he collided with a wall, and then Charlie was really kissing him and Harry's head swam and he gripped Charlie's hair painfully hard with his hands, kissing back, lips and tongue and teeth.

As far as first kisses went, it was great. Granted, his only real previous experience had been Cho, and that wasn't really a kiss. He understood that now, groaning faintly and clutching Charlie closer, gasping sharply as Charlie suddenly pressed his hips against Harry's and _ground _against him and Harry was a puddle of pleasure and wreck of nerves.

God if Harry had even the slightest idea of what the hell he was doing!

* * *

So, give me a review and tell me what you think. Or just have a good night!


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